


The Most Wonderful Time

by seekrest



Series: Merry and Bright [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas Fluff, Found Family, Light Angst, Love is the best magic we have, May Parker deserves better, Multi, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, and this is my attempt to give it to her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21676339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: “Do you think love can still be magic when they’re not here to feel it?”May watches as her mom straightened her shoulders, putting her chin up and looking straight into her eyes - seeing the resolve growing behind them.“Your daddy was the smartest man I’ve ever met. He loved you more than life itself.”May feels like something’s in her throat, seeing her mom’s eyes get watery as she continues.“And if he said that love was magic, then I believe it too.”
Relationships: Ben Parker/May Parker (Spider-Man), May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Merry and Bright [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559587
Comments: 46
Kudos: 231





	The Most Wonderful Time

“May Belle Reilly, if you’re not asleep in five minutes….”

May giggled under the covers, peeking over her blanket when her father steps in, seeing the smile on his face - his words harsh even if his tone is not. 

May could barely contain herself, thinking of Christmas and Santa coming to visit. She’d been so good - _all year long_ \- and she felt like she was going to burst from excitement. 

“But daddy, what about Santa? What if he doesn’t like the cookies I made? What if he’s allergic? What if--”

He sighs, walking over to her bed, May letting him tuck her in further even as she pouts - seeing his tired smile.

“Santa doesn’t come to houses where little girls don’t fall asleep in time. And Santa will love anything that you give him, trust me.” He winks at her, folding the covers so they were just under her chin - making it impossible for May to move. 

“But how will I _know_ ? How does _he_ know what house to come to?” May asked, watching as her father’s eyes almost sparkle - the moonlight streaming into her room illuminating his features. 

She loved how tall he was and how strong, still able to pick her up and lift her over his shoulders. It made May feel like she was flying, his hands holding her legs as she threw her hands out - twirling in circles as the snow fell around them.

It was the best Christmas already and Santa hadn’t even shown up yet, her dad spending more time with her in the past few weeks than he had all year. May saw the concerned look on her mom’s face, her little mind wondering what could have caused him to be home with her instead of at work.

But May couldn’t really bring herself to care, not when they’d spent the past few weeks making snow angels for hours, ice skating in the neighbor’s pond, and counting stars as they sipped cocoa from mugs they’d decorated.

It was perfect - the best Christmas that May had ever had in her seven years of life. 

Her father just smiles even wider, leaning forward as he whispers, “He just does baby, Santa’s magic. But you know he’s not the only one who has magic.” 

He bops her on the nose, May giggling as he says, “You have magic too.”

“How?” May asks, her father leaning down to press a kiss on her forehead, smiling down on her.

“You got all that love wrapped up inside you baby girl.” He pushes some hair from her forehead, seeing the warmth and love in his eyes, “Love is the best magic in the world we got.” 

* * *

“Mama?”

“Hmm?” May watches as her mother swirls the batter together, putting her head in her hands. 

“Daddy said once that love was the best magic in the world.”

Her mother waits, May seeing the sadness in her eyes as she continues. “Do you think love can still be magic when they’re not here to feel it?” 

May’s question doesn’t make sense and even she knows it, feeling a lot older than her eight years.

But her mother seems to consider it anyway, setting the batter down on the counter as she braces herself against the kitchen island, looking back at May. 

“I don’t know May Belle.” 

The grief between them is so heavy, May almost regrets asking the question - knowing in the way all children do that her mom was trying her best to make their first Christmas without her dad okay.

She knew now what she hadn’t last Christmas - that her father had been let go from his job. That he’d been sick for awhile and that losing his job had been the final straw, stressing their finances in a way that May had been so sheltered from but now - with just the two of them - couldn’t be hidden.

But May watches as her mom straightened her shoulders, putting her chin up and looking straight into May’s eyes - seeing the resolve growing behind her eyes.

“But I know this baby. Your daddy was the smartest man I’ve ever met. He loved you more than life itself.” 

May feels like something’s in her throat, seeing her mom’s eyes get watery as she continues.

“And if he said that love was magic then I believe it too.” 

* * *

May rubs her temples in frustration, hearing the loud music pounding through the wall. It was a week before finals, the damn heater wasn’t working right and if her neighbors didn’t turn down their music, she was going to scream.

She takes a deep breath, trying to focus - knowing that this is what she got for still living in the dorms her senior year.

It’s not like she had a choice, a mix of scholarships and her part-time jobs at the library and coffee shop down the street giving her little options in where to live with her budget. 

The music was loud and obnoxious but May had hoped her earplugs would help - still feeling the vibrations from the boombox her neighbors no doubt had situated right where her wall was at. 

She couldn’t afford - literally and figuratively - to make a big stink, but May was at her limit - running on three hours of sleep and four cups of coffee.

May sighs in frustration, shoving herself away from the desk and opening her door - knocking as loudly as she can on the door next to her.

She hears the music stop, taps her foot impatiently only for the door to open - a man looking back at her with a curious expression.

“Can I help—“

“Yes actually, you can.” May interrupts, ignoring how surprised he was, “Your music is too loud and vibrates the whole wall. Find some headphones to blast your eardrums with, some of us have finals to study for.”

The man looks at her up and down, May feeling the flush of her cheeks as she takes him in too - wearing a faded plaid shirt and jeans, looking every bit the laidback frat bro she imagined her neighbor to be. His hair curled at the edges, a slow smile forming on his face as he looking back up at her.

But it was his eyes that caught her off guard, a fusion of green and brown that still sparkles under the fluorescent lighting. 

“Who says I’m not studying too? What if loud music helps me relax?”

May scoffs, folding her arms. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t even know how you concentrate. I can’t even hear my own thoughts.”

“Maybe your thoughts aren’t loud enough.” He remarks, mirroring her stance as he leans against the doorway.

He’s flirting with her, May narrowing her eyes as she shakes her head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

He just shrugs, staring back at her. “When does anything ever make sense?”

May rolls her eyes, unfolding her arms as she sighs. “Whatever, just— turn it down? Alright?”

He seems contrite, smiling as he unfolds his arms - putting out his hand. May looks down at it for a second before he speaks, bringing her attention back to his face.

“I’m Ben.”

“Keep your music down, Ben.” May says, shaking his hand roughly before turning to her door, hearing him call out to her.

“Wait, I didn’t get your name!”

“I didn’t give it!” May yells back, hearing him laugh as she turns back.

His hazel eyes are like sirens - staring at her in a way that sends an involuntary shiver down her spine. May ignores it, scoffing as she opens her door and quickly closes it behind her - sighing as she leans against it.

She sees her makeshift Christmas tree on her desk, hearing Ben resume his music - albeit at a much lower volume.

She smiles, inexplicably thinking of her father and the way he would dance with her mom in the living room - the ache of missing him even all these years later.

May let’s herself live in the memory for the moment before shaking herself, walking back to her desk and to the paper she was trying to finish. 

The music still plays softly in the background, May thinking she was projecting her annoyance about her life towards her neighbor unnecessarily - knowing that she should go back and apologize for being so rude, even if _he_ had been rude first by playing his music so loudly. 

But before she gets the chance to debate who was more right or wrong, she suddenly hears a knock at the door - turning back to face it. 

She could just not answer, thinking of the paper she has to write and the fact that the door being closed meant that she wanted to be left alone.

But May’s already distracted, getting up and opening the door - only to see Ben with an apologetic expression on her face.

May instantly narrows her eyes, thinking that any apology she was going to give was about to be unnecessary if he was one of those pushy, creepy guys who couldn’t leave well enough alone for her to be surprised with the next words out of his mouth.

“Hey, um, sorry for the music. And for being a bit of an ass.” He rubs the back of his neck, grimacing. “Been stressed with finals and the music really _does_ help me relax.”

When May doesn’t answer Ben just smiles again, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, you don’t care. I’m sorry, just-- I wanted to apologize.”

May studies him, nodding her head. “Apology accepted. Sorry for,” May waves around, “I don’t know, helping you remember that you live around other people.”

Ben laughs, May forcing herself not to smile at the sound. He nods once more in her direction before turning back to his room, May leaning out against the door - calling out against her better judgement.

“And it’s May.”

“Hmm?” Ben asks, turning back to her.

“My name. May.”

“Like the month?” He asks, May rolling her eyes as he grins.

“Original but yeah, like the _month_.” 

“Nice to meet you May like the month.” Ben says, winking at her as he walks back into his room.

May smiles despite herself. She closes the door, feeling a fluttering her stomach as she looks back at the little Christmas tree, whispering to the quiet room - a feeling she couldn’t explain crawling all over her, a feeling that felt a lot like coming home. 

“Nice to meet you too.”

* * *

“It’s fine, May. Don’t worry about it.” 

She groans, Ben kissing her on the temple as she takes the failed dinner out of the oven - hearing laughter from the living room.

“How the hell did I mess up _ham_? It’s simple. Put in a tray, turn the oven on, instant dinner.” Ben laughs, poking her side as she shakes her head.

“I knew I should’ve set a timer on this thing.”

“I don’t think a timer would’ve somehow reminded you to turn the oven on.” 

She gives Ben a withering look, only for the peal of laughter from the living room to distract them - looking back to see Richard snapping pictures as Mary holds their nephew up - Peter giggling as he stands upright.

“Ben! May! Get in here, he’s standing!” Richard exclaims, Ben and May sharing a look as they walk back in.

“Rich, Mary’s holding him up--” Ben starts to say but May shushes him, beaming at the little family in her living room - the soft glow of the Christmas lights lighting up their faces.

Peter looks unsteady, Mary holding him up more than standing but his brown eyes are wide and his toothless grin so big that it makes May smile, forgetting for a second that she’d failed at making dinner for Peter’s first Christmas.

Ben’s arm wraps around her as they watch Peter wobble before he lifts his legs up, Mary trying to get him to steady himself again. 

“He’s getting so big.” Richard says, Ben nodding his head. 

“He’ll be running around, terrorizing us all before you know it. Just like his father.” Ben says, May and Mary laughing at how offended Richard looks. 

The brothers continue to banter back and forth but May is stuck on Mary, holding her little nephew in her arms and feeling the familiar ache in her chest. 

Her and Ben had tried for so long to have kids, knowing now that it would never happen. It was something she’d come to relative peace with, after many long-distance phone calls with her mom - learning only then that May herself had been a miracle, unexplainable fertility issues that she wishes she’d known before she married Ben - knowing how badly he had wanted children.

But Ben had whispered the same thing that her father had so many years ago, that the love she had for him and that he had for her was overwhelming - that anytime he looked at her, it felt just like the first time he saw her. 

It was sweet, romantic in the way Ben Parker always was. But seeing the way Peter’s face lit up as he babbled, watching Mary interact with him - made her heart still twinge with a sense of longing and loss, one that she wonders will ever go away.

“How’s the ham looking, May? Need any help?” Richard asks, bringing her out of her thoughts as she laughs.

“About that—“

“I’m thinking we could do some good old fashioned hot dogs for Christmas. You remember you used to love those little weenie sandwiches I’d make when we were kids, Rich? The ones with mustard?”

Richard and Mary share a look, one that makes her burn with embarrassment at the realization that her lack of cooking skills was so apparent that they could see Ben’s redirection for what it was. But Mary just smiled, a mirror of Peter’s as she goes to stand - cradling him on her hip.

“I think that sounds great. I love hearing stories about you and Rich as kids.” She tickles the side of Peter’s belly, the whole room smiling at his giggles.

“It wasn’t as exciting as Ben pretends it is.” Richard starts to object, Ben waving his hands.

“Come on Rich, it’s Christmas.” He glances towards May, a double meaning in his words that only she would know.

“What’s Christmas without making life a little more magical?”

  
  


* * *

May turned the heat off from the stove, taking out the hot dogs and carefully placing them in buns - trying to be as quiet as possible to overhear Ben and Peter in the other room.

She knew it would be hard for him - hard for all of them - without Richard and Mary, but May hoped that their little tradition of mustard hotdogs would be enough to help ease the absence of their loss, something she saw her own mother do with the cookies she had made, the year after her father died.

The phone rings, startling May - going for the handheld receiver as she answers it, hearing a familiar voice on the other line.

“Merry Christmas, May Belle!”

May smiles, fitting the phone in the crook of her neck as she walks to the fridge - grabbing the mustard before closing it.

“Merry Christmas, mama.”

“How’s that husband of yours? And little Peter? Poor thing.”

“He’s doing okay, both of them.” May whispers, sneaking a look to the living room - watching the two of them mess with the Christmas lights. 

Peter smiles just then, May’s heart constricting at the thought of how few times she’d seen it in the past few weeks.

He sticks his tongue out while he works to untangle a light, Ben catching her eye. They smile at each other - no words needing to be said, united in making sure that this year - and every year to follow - that Peter would still feel all the love he so richly deserved. 

They could never replace his parents - no one ever could - but seeing Peter smile so brightly, reminding her yet again of another Christmas not so long ago - May holds on to the hope that maybe their lives could still have some magic after all. 

  
  


* * *

“Hey kid! May, lovely to see you. You brought us,” Tony looks down, frowning at the platter in Peter’s hands, “Hot dogs?”

“It’s tradition, Mr. Stark.” Peter says nonchalantly, pushing past him into his penthouse like he owned the place. May was a bit more hesitant, Tony turning to her with a question on his face.

“Something Ben and I used to do.” She offers, understanding dawning on his face as Tony nods, welcoming her in.

She takes a look around, the elegant decorations she knows Pepper had likely chosen, trying to feel as home as Peter did.

It’d been a tense few months, after learning her nephew had not only been dressing up as a comic book character and fighting crime in the city but had been aided and abetted by the man awkwardly shuffling in behind her.

She had yelled. Tony had listened. But for better or for worse - more of the former, May thought at seeing how lit up Peter was anytime he came home from lab time with Tony - this was her life now.

 _How’s this for magic, daddy?_ May thinks to herself, Tony clapping his hands together. 

“So we got eggnog in the fridge, non-alcoholic for the kid but I’m thinking you’re more of a wine person?”

“You would be correct, Tony.” May smiles, Tony smiling back as Peter comes back up to them.

“So when does the party start?” Peter asks, May watching as Tony’s expression changes. 

“Well, _you_ and your aunt are here so I guess the party’s just begun.”

May can see the way Peter shoots a look to her before smiling at Tony, knowing from what she’s seen on the news and read online that the Avengers were… in the middle of a family squabble, for lack of a better term.

Ben had been the one who had always kept to update on the superhero bullshit, chattering about it with Peter well into the night.

It was a lot for May to wrap her head around, that Peter wasn’t just one of them but had seemingly caught the eye of the most famous of them all.

It was even something she and Peter had talked about, at length - preparing for the holiday party that she was quickly realizing would be just them. 

“You think Mr. Stark’s lonely?” Peter had asked, squirting mustard on the hotdogs as May cleaned up.

“What makes you say that?” She had asked back, sneaking a peek at him as his focus stayed on the hot dogs.

“I know he and Ms. Potts are together again but like,” Peter had set the mustard down, looking back at her. “I don’t know. Do you think it’s weird, him wanting to like… mentor me or whatever?”

“Weird is not the word I would choose, Pete. Fucking bananas maybe, that I have Iron Man on speed dial but not weird.” Peter had laughed and May had set the towel down she was using, leaning against the counter as she folded her arms.

“You’re an incredible kid, Pete. With or without your spider powers. Tony sees that in you, I don’t think-“ she catches what he’s meaning seeing the look in his eyes, continuing, “I don’t think he’s _replacing_ you. He just wants to help.”

It’s words that Tony had told her one of the first times she’d met with him after she found out the truth, words that she now believed - seeing how intentional Tony had been in spending time with Peter.

Peter’s eyes had shifted downward, seeing the storm behind them as he looked intently at the hot dogs.

“Do you think… is it wrong that I like spending time with him? Like I’m replacing…” 

He didn’t say the words but May immediately felt them, the ringing of another loss - of Ben being out of their lives so soon, a heart that aches that Peter was so well-acquainted of what grief looked like and what it meant to try and cope.

May was immediate, putting a hand to his chin - lifting his face up to look at him. 

“Love doesn’t work that way, baby. You don’t ever _replace_ people, you just…” May sighed, tilting her head as she smiled.

”You find more room in your heart for love to grow. And you kid,” she’d bopped his nose, Peter rolling his eyes as she said, “have all that love wrapped up inside you.”

She leaned back, Peter listening as she said, “It’s okay to want to be around him, Pete. Ben would want you to be happy.”

May had believed those words, even if Peter’s question of whether Tony was lonely still rung in her ears. 

May didn’t know - didn’t know the man well enough really. But seeing the earnestness in his eyes, the clear love that he had for her nephew even if he likely hadn’t the words to say them - was enough for May to push forward, saying, “Well Tony, if that’s the case then where’s that wine you promised me?”

Tony smiled, clapping Peter on the back as he nodded towards the kitchen. “Right over here. Come on squirt, help me grab the good glasses at the top.”

“I thought _all_ your glasses were good.” Peter had quipped, May smirking as the two of them walked together to the kitchen - seeing Pepper walk in from the other room.

“May! Good to see you. Merry Christmas!”

May smiled warmly at her, feeling herself relax and feeling a little more at home. “Good to see you, Pepper. Merry Christmas.”

  
  


* * *

May let the cold breeze wash over her, holding her sweater tighter as she looked out over the lake house - the quiet doing nothing to calm the grief in her heart.

Three years after the world had ended, three years after all had been lost. And yet knowing that billions were just like her, mourning the loss of all who were gone didn’t comfort her - knowing that Peter was among them, wishing in a sad way that she’s been dusted too.

She hears the front door creak, knowing who it would but not turning to face him - feeling him sit beside her on the cold wooden bench.

It was freezing, snow everywhere and yet the scenery matched the feeling in May’s heart - thinking of all the days she’d forced herself out of bed, working to help in any way she could to make the world right when it never would be.

“Peter loved snow.” May says, breaking the silence. She looks to Tony, his eyes trained on her as she sighs.

“He would’ve loved this place. Would’ve loved Morgan.” May tries to smile, blinking back tears - looking out to the frozen lake and trying to stave down the grief in her heart.

May knew that Tony had been with Peter when he _died_ \- something she had such a hard time grasping even if it was the exact words she used to help the people who came to see her.

She knew the grief she felt at his loss was shared, had seen first-hand how devastated he was when he’d called her in a panic, telling her words that she had already known in her heart.

But Tony had also gotten married, had a beautiful baby daughter. And while May was unbelievably happy for him, finding a new kind of joy with Happy herself - Christmas reminded her of all that she had lost, all that she could never have again.

Her words to Peter come back to her - the idea of love growing, of never being replaced - and she chides herself, for even allowing herself to think that Tony didn’t still feel the ache of living in a world without Peter. 

She straightens her shoulders, giving Tony a watery smile. “I’m really happy for you, Tony. Truly.”

Tony’s thoughts must be where hers were, his voice low and gravely as he says, “I’m sorry, May.”

She shakes her head, sighing again. “None of that, not on Christmas. It’s not your fault.” Tony looks at her like he doesn’t believe her, knowing a part of her doesn’t believe it either.

But if there’s anything her life had taught her, it’s that love was meant to be shared - to be celebrated, no matter how long you had it.

Peter would’ve wanted that for her - for the both of them. 

“Come on.” She says, standing up as she sees Tony wipe tears from his eyes.

“We have some hot dogs to make.”

* * *

“Fuck. I burned the hot dogs. How the hell is that even possible?”

May holds back a laugh, watching as Michelle groans in frustration - examining the charred link on her skewer. 

The bonfire is warm, May’s eyes shifting over to where Peter and Tony were deep in conversation, though whether it was about the electrified villain Peter had encountered last week or Tony’s eggnog recipe, May didn’t know.

May smiles before turning back to Michelle, sending her an encouraging look as she says, “It’ll be fine. I forgot to put the oven on for Peter’s first Christmas. It’s how the hot dog tradition started, forgetting to bake a ham.”

Michelle smiles back at her, May’s heart warming - from the fire and from the knowledge that her world was so whole.

It was almost ten years since their world had been right again, the reflection of the metal arm Tony now had glimmering against the bonfire’s glow.

She could remember it like it was yesterday, the chaos of those first few moments when the world’s population felt like it doubled in an instant - knowing immediately that his plan had worked.

May had held Morgan tight, hoping beyond hope that everything was okay - remembering so vividly the overwhelming relief when she got Pepper’s call, hearing Peter’s voice through the phone for the first time in five years.

It’d been a long road to recovery - for all of them, for the world - Tony’s arm being a small sacrifice when she knew he would’ve given his whole life to bring Peter home.

And yet here they were, years later, happy and whole - Peter looking less like the baby from her memories and so much more like the man that he was, reminding her of all the best pieces of Richard, Mary and Ben.

Michelle nudged her arm, bringing her attention back to the hotdogs, nodding towards Tony and Peter.

“We should’ve let them handle these. I know I was the one who said we could do it, but…” May laughs, wrapping her sweater around her tighter.

“It’s fine. You know how those two get when they’re together. I doubt the hot dogs would’ve been any better in their hands.”

Michelle snorts. “True. Peter’s terrible in the kitchen. An awful house husband, really.”

They both laugh, the sound mixing in with the crackle of the bonfire. May goes to ask Michelle if she wanted to walk back to the house, only for her to say, “I just wanted to give it a shot this time. You know, cause I’ll have my hands full next year.”

May pauses, studying the neutral expression on Michelle’s face - her heart skipping a beat as she raises her eyebrows.

“Next year…?”

Michelle shrugs, though May can see the smirk on her lips - her eyes gleaming as she says, “I hear babies take up a lot of your attention. Probably a bad idea to try and multi-task, since I can barely handle it now.” 

May’s mouth drops open, closing it before putting her hand up - Michelle breaking out into smile as she yells.

The sound catches Peter’s attention, coming up to them with Tony not far behind.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” He sees the burned hot dogs, “Aw MJ—“

“You’re having a baby!?” May exclaims, both Peter and Tony’s eyes growing wide as Michelle grins.

“MJ! We were gonna wait for Christmas Eve!” Peter almost pouts, Tony looking comically between the two of them. 

“Kid, you’re WHAT?” Michelle laughs, Peter shaking his head as Tony looks on bewildered - May feeling her heart soar.

“The setup was perfect, Pete. Besides, you know I can never keep anything from May.” Michelle winks, May rushing forward to hug the two of them - kissing them both on the cheek as Tony starts to short-circuit.

“You’re— this is a prank. You’re bullshitting me right now?” Tony looks completely overwhelmed, all of them laughing as Peter claps a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ll have time to get used to it, _grandpa_.” Peter jokes, May’s hand reaching for Michelle’s as she squeezes it in return.

“Peter.” She says, Peter turning his head - seeing the love and the joy written all over his face. 

“Merry Christmas, May. Or I guess I should say,” he winks, looking so much like Ben as he does, saying, “ _Grandma_.”

It’s not even three weeks till Christmas but May thinks it’s already the best gift she’s ever been given - thinking of all the things that happened in her life that led to this moment, holding the hand of the woman who captured her nephew’s heart, standing by the fire outside of a billionaire’s cabin - a family not based in blood but united together in love. 

May knew she lived in a world of titans and of gods, a universe filled with hope and tragedy and everything between. 

But holding Michelle’s hand, seeing the joy on all their faces - Tony smiling as she does, May thinks that maybe her father was right all those years ago. 

That love was really the greatest magic in the world.

And that she had been given the chance to have every piece of it inside her - to hold, to carry and to share - for many Christmases to come. 

**Author's Note:**

> May Parker deserves the world and that’s that on that. 
> 
> I love it when people scream at me in the comments. Or come hang out with me on [tumblr.](https://seek-rest.tumblr.com)


End file.
